The silence that follows makes me bitterly regret the words that have just left my mouth – but not enough to make me say anything more.
“At l-lunch. We could have lunch. I’m working the evening shift tomorrow,” I try.
Another silence making me regret ever bringing up this whole thing.
I’m making a fool of myself for someone I’m not even interested in.
“I only have an hour tomorrow between lessons.”
“I could come to you.”
“Here? To the university?”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to be seen with me?”
“Me? No, what are you…? I’m just a private person. I don’t want everyone to know my business.”
I can understand that.
“We could meet outside. At one. There’s a place on College Street.”
“Okay.”
“We can meet there.”
“At one. I’ll be there.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Another silence I don’t know how to fill. I just know that the moment has come to hang up; but I don’t want to.
I lie back on the bed in the semi-darkness of my bedroom. I let my gaze lift to the ceiling, one hand resting on my stomach and the other holding up my phone.
“So… What tests were you marking?”
“Oh… End-of-semester tests. The first-year students are readingThe Tempestby Shakespeare.”
“I know that one.”
“Really?”
“I did go to school, you know.”
“Of course, how stupid of me…”
I hear him laugh and find myself smiling.
“You’re a harsh marker, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“And you use a red pen?”
“Exactly.”
I laugh again, and he laughs with me.
